


Confronting their own Mortality

by Arpad



Series: Confronting Mortality [2]
Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, SiH 32 spoilers, Size Kink, Weird Sex, almost macro/micro but not really??, no really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:50:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arpad/pseuds/Arpad
Summary: "Chapter" 3 of "Reminded of his own Mortality"wanted to break it out because while the events take place directly after the first two chapters, it's thematically quite different (mostly because it's PWP)Can probably be read on it's own?





	Confronting their own Mortality

Throndir jolts awake when Kodiak barks nearby as Fero reverts to his halfling form just so he can yell, “Gross! Get a room!” before he's off running again - the physical embodiment of the joy of creation.

His body unused to sleep, Throndir is sluggish enough that he doesn’t immediately jump up in alert, and he’s reminded that his whole body is pressed against a barely clothed behemoth as he's jostled by Red Jack's laughter. Before he can put a sentence together (and that’s the only thing he’s trying to do right now, because he’s comfortable and warm and he can’t remember the last time he even just laid down) the world tilts as he's lifted, Red Jack calling back to the pair of romping canines, “Fine. Fine! We'll go to my tent.”

Throndir would be embarrassed but he's too distracted by the ease with which Red Jack announced their destination: Red Jack's tent? As if this was a completely normal occurrence. As though Throndir hadn't spent a decade tortured by his attraction and close proximity to this giant who is now carrying him effortlessly through camp. It’s actually a little infuriating, but he doesn’t have the energy to protest and he’s not willing to risk a fight when he can’t guarantee there will be time to make up.

Then a heavy canvas flap is pushed aside, and he's gently placed onto a bedroll covered in fur pelts and if he _did_ need to sleep then he would’ve been out again in minutes. But as it is, Throndir is painfully aware of Red Jack laying down across from him/ He breaches the space between them to press his hand to the center of Red Jack’s chest, smiling mostly to himself at the simple confirmation of the reality of their proximity. Red Jack hums in approval and they just lay for a while, Throndir content to shut his eyes and allow himself to appreciate the intensity of Red Jack’s life in a very material way - his strong heartbeat and the heat that radiates off of him.

After enough time passes that a normal person would have fallen asleep, Throndir feels a clawed hand carding through his hair. He melts into the gentle scratching at his scalp until Red Jack gets his hand stuck in the tangle of Throndir's curls and curses under his breath as he tries to free himself without disturbing Throndir - who is forced to give up the illusion of sleep by a laugh that feels like it's bubbled up directly from his heart.

Red Jack stills and Throndir can just make out the tightness in his face, the sudden stiffness to his shoulders where there had been none a moment before when he believed Throndir to be unconscious. Throndir moves his hand up to smooth the furrow between Red Jack’s brows but recoils when he’s startled by a sharp intake of breath when he makes contact.

Throndir considers the man across from him, how Red Jack’s eyes are open but downcast, seeming to be frozen in place with uncertainty. Emboldened by the effect he has on Red Jack, Throndir slowly moves forward and pushes himself up to be level with Red Jack, bracing against his chest and moving in as if going for a kiss - and he does get close enough to feel Red Jack’s breath on his lips - but when the other man hesitates he falls back and rolls away, overcome with a fit of laughter - amazed with the intensity of this affection now that he's begun to give himself permission to feel it.

Successfully goaded, Red Jack twists Throndir around to face him, but once he has him... hesitates again; staring down at Throndir’s mouth, parted in a half-smile, Red jack is affronted by how quickly he’s become frazzled by this. With an impatient snarl, he pulls Throndir flush against him and presses a firm kiss to his lips – it’s slower than he’d like, forced to be cautious with his tusks - it’s a tight fit.

Despite the care with which Red Jack kisses him, the tusks dig into Throndir’s cheeks on either side of his mouth. It makes Throndir feel like he has been grabbed by the jaw to be held in place - his adrenaline spikes at the thought and he can’t help but moan into the heat of Red Jack's mouth.

This apparently renews Red Jack’s confidence enough to deepen the kiss, and Throndir opens to him enthusiastically. Then Throndir is nearly choking on Red Jack's tongue, not because the oni is being particularly aggressive but because it barely fits in his mouth. He moans around it as he finally internalizes just how small he is compared to Red Jack – he didn’t think the difference in scale between them was quite this significant. And wasn’t he _just_ enjoying the pressure from Red Jack’s tusks? Throndir accepts that his mind has been fried by this turn of events, because he’s got plenty of room now.

He grabs at the shoulder of Red Jack's robe, pulling it down ineffectually before trying again on bare skin, desperate suddenly to feel the weight of Red Jack on him. He is rewarded with a laugh that he can feel rumbling in his own chest as Red Jack indulges him, flipping himself so that he’s directly over Throndir, resting most of his weight on his elbows. But just the hang of his belly is enough to press Throndir's torso into to the ground, eliciting a long groan the elf, who is still trying to pull Red Jack closer despite the threat of being crushed (he doesn’t have to breath so _who cares_ ).

Red Jack gives into the pulling and drops more weight on to Throndir - just to hear his surprised gasp, but is instead himself surprised by the involuntary jerk of Throndir’s hips and the hardness that presses just below his navel.

With a short laugh, Red Jack sits back on his knees and watches with deep satisfaction as Throndir whines at the loss and struggles to follow him for a moment before dropping to the soft furs below them. Red Jack does, afterall, have Throndir’s legs trapped between his thighs - and despite his strength, in his current state Throndir can’t hold himself upright without being able to bend his knees.

And so Red Jack just sits for a moment, content to watch Throndir's face scrunch up with frustration at his temporary defeat. Once Throndir's eyes open again and Red Jack is confident he has his attention, he strips off the rest of his robe; slowly untying the sash at his waist and letting the silky fabric drop from his shoulders entirely.

Throndir has seen most of Red Jack many times before, of course – the man has never been anything even approaching modest - but this is the first time Throndir has seen him this close, his eyes almost entirely black and heavily lidded. He looks truly monstrous looming above Throndir; The line of a hard muscle defined here or there where he supports himself, and so much bigger than Throndir remembers him being. But then there's the familiar upward twist of lips and show of fangs to put him at ease as Red Jack untucks himself from where he had been trapped between them.

He gives his cock a few slow pumps, watching Throndir’s face as he draws back his foreskin to reveal the smooth glans that he knows Throndir has never seen: Red Jack had been careful to never be both nude and alone with Throndir - only when there are other people (at the public bathouse, for example) to distract him from Throndir’s soft but sturdy body, or worse, from the purplish blush that appears whenever he catches Red Jack looking at him. And so he’s been flaccid the few times Throndir has seen him nude and even now he's not hard enough to expose this secret part of him without his help. Throndir visibly swallows and Red Jack feels like he’s already killed the dragon when he notices how the hue of Throndir’s ears has shifted from a chestnut brown to deep violet.

Red Jack bends to plant a quick affectionate kiss on Throndir's shoulder, but lingers when he feels the elf shaking under his lip. He has the sudden urge to toy with him: open his mouth wide around the curve of Throndir's neck, allowing his tusks to press into the thin skin there with just enough force to feel Throndir’s pulse, partially as payback for Thriondir’s teasing, but also curious to see if he'd struggle away from the potential threat. His heart leaps into his throat as Throndir does the opposite: moaning and pressing into the bite, baring his throat in a show of trust and invitation.

Red Jack reluctantly retreats, feeling the hammering of Throndir's pulse against his teeth before pulling back to unlace the elf's pants and get off of him for long enough to slide them down Throndir's thighs. His erection is trapped under the waistline of his pants until Red Jack gets them low enough for it to spring free. It slaps against the underside of Throndir’s belly before rolling down and to the side, leaving a trail of fluid. It’s adorable.

With a hum of satisfaction, Red jack takes himself in hand again to rub over Throndir’s erection, the head of his cock is nearly half the size of Throndir's enter length. Realizing this, Red Jack considers letting Throndir fuck into his foreskin until he reaches his full girth. He imagines the slick head of Throndir's cock pushing insistently between the cleft of his glans, held tighter and tighter against him as he hardens and his foreskin gets caught on the head of Throndir’s cock instead of pulling back naturally and -Red Jack groans, hips rocking forward in a momentary lapse in control - He’s certainly hard now - and privately admits to himself that he needs to slow down.

So Red Jack cups Throndir’s relatively little erection in his palm and waits for both of their breathing to even out before sliding his hand down and bracketing Throndir's cock between thumb and forefinger. Using the flat of his hand to rhythmically knead the base of Thondir’s cock and his balls, Red jack watches with satisfaction as the purple flush expands across Throndir’s face, down his neck, and creeping down his chest.

Glancing down, Red Jack smiles when he sees fluid collecting between the V of his fingers, Throndir's cock, and Throndir's abdomen. Using this to slick himself, Red Jack finally gives in to Throndir's half-mumbled pleas and moves back up his body to kiss him. Red Jack does is not careful to keep his weight off Throndir this time, though he’s careful enough not to cause any lasting harm.

Throndir has been shaking with the effort not to be vocal this entire time, not wanting to wake anyone or embarrass himself, and so he sighs in relief when he's surrounded and crushed beneath Red Jack, enough air pressed out of him that he's not left with enough to make much sound even if he'd wanted to. Then his whole body is pushed, the furs bunching about his head and shoulders as Red Jack rolls his hips. The giant's massive erection is rubbing against him with just the right amount of pressure as it moves between them and Throndir finds enough air wheeze, “oh..oh fuck-” before Red Jack's mouth is on his and he's completely taken by the sensations above and around him, unable to move on his own but constantly rocked by Red Jack's movements, the wet slide of Red Jack's cock between their bodies making him dizzy. He bites and licks at Red Jack's lips until the giant yields to him and he's giddy from the fullness of Red Jack's tongue in his mouth.

Throndir loses himself to the calming numbness at the base of his skull, the ache of pleasure at his groin and in his mouth and for a moment it's enough to just exist here like this. He's not a murderer, he's not a monster, and the likely possibility of upcoming trauma and death is far from his mind. _Everything is Red Jack_ and he lets himself drift through the fantasies he's had throughout the years: cold and alone in his bed at the university after a night spent transfixed by the beads of sweat on Red Jack's chest as they all sat around the hearth; or after catching the outline of Red Jack's dick against silk as he looked up from the floor where he'd been playing with a young BlueJay - he’d had to claim to suddenly remember an evening meeting he had scheduled with Ephrim - only to spend the rest of the night in his bed with one fist around his cock and the other stuffed in his mouth to quiet his moaning as he rocking down onto the heavy stone phallus he'd bought from a traveling merchant before the refugees started arriving in waves.

If he thinks too hard about the present, it’s suspicious - his toy was probably a little bigger than what he’d seen of Red Jack, but the monster above him is easily twice that size. Luckily, Throndir’s thoughts are occupied and only the only lingering effect from his suspicions is a diffuse throbbing in his ass as he remembers the toy and is suddenly aware of how close he is to the inspiration for purchasing it.

Some of his distraction must have communicated itself, because with a grunt of exertion Red Jack has flipped them and is running his hands down Throndir's back and tucking hair behind Throndir’s ears and laughing as Throndir finds himself astride Red Jack's heaving chest, looking down into a face that's open and warm and _very_ amused, “Tell me what you want, Throndir” He moves his giant hands to Throndir’s hips and squeezes them appreciatively, “You can’t hurt me, and I think you are much less .. destructible! Hah! Than you once were.”

 

 

Throndir can tell by Red Jack’s gentle expression that it’s not a challenge, but he takes it as one anyway. His ribs are sore from extended compression, and he’s out of breath, “I want.. hah.. i want .. get me ready for..” At a soothing caress from Red Jack he allows himself a moment to remember what breathing is before finishing, “I want you to fuck me, Jack.”

Red jack hums in consideration, and Throndir shares in his obvious skepticism of that possibility, but a challenge that isn’t a challenge. . .  is still a challenge, and it’s Throndir’s turn to be on top. So he moves himself up Red Jack’s chest until he’s just about straddling him before realizing he’s missing something and squints into the dark.

Red Jack, impatient, lifts his head and licks a strip up Throndir’s dick, who shivers and lifts away so that he’s kneeling above Red Jack, making space between them and serendipitously giving Red Jack a good view. He needs to find.. Red Jack’s pack.. -but Throndir’s intentions are wiped from his mind when the giant strains upward and manages to catch the head of Throndir’s cock in his mouth and suck hard before his dropping back down and letting go with a pop..

Throndir jumps away as best he can, squawking at Red Jack in protest, “f- Fuck OFF you can’t just DO that -” And Red Jack’s grin breaks into open laughter as Throndir moves to finish his search of the tent and eventually finds Red Jack’s pack.

He’s struggling with opening the strap of the third pocket he’s checked when Red Jack laughs again and, up on an elbow clearly having enjoyed watching him, says, “if you’re looking for the oil, I've already got it over here..” Throndir curses and storms back over, “but it’s for my horns o-OOF”

Throndir pushes him off balance and onto his back again. Red Jack rumbles happily and makes a half-assed attempt at sounding serious when he insists on continuing his bullshit, “-of course.” Throndir is sitting high up on Red Jack’s chest glaring down at him but Red Jack keeps going, his laughter carrying into his voice, “It is an important nightly ritual that i-uMF”

Red Jack is silenced as Throndir unceremoniously feeds him his cock. It’s an awkward position, one that doesn’t give either of them space to move, but he sighs and lets himself enjoy the wet heat and _quiet_ for a moment before pulling out and moving into the same kneeling position he’d been in before leaving on his quest.

When he looks down, Red Jack meets his eyes and his smile is soft and patient, bringing a hand up to stroke Throndir’s hip as though he needs taming. Throndir is struck again by how affectionate he feels for this man, grateful that all of his favorite things about Red Jack are still present in doing this. Red jack is playful but sincere in everything he does, boisterous and always at the center of attention but also careful to listen to even the quietest voice. It gives Throndir the room to be confident and communicative when in the past the few sexual encounters he had were mostly silent, stressful guessing games where he tried to do anything that would best please his partner while making it seem like his actions were in his own self-interest (to seem confident and therefore more attractive? He doesn’t even know anymore. Maybe never did). Here, though, he returns the smile; leans over to grab the oil; gives Red Jack a meaningful look as he presses it into his palm; and accepts the invitation that is Red Jack’s mouth.

He feels the vibration of Red Jack’s happy hum, and then he gasps and nearly collapses as Red Jack curls his tongue around the head of his cock. Throndir has had a blowjob before, he’d given a few, too. So he thought he knew what to expect, but Red Jack’s tongue is somehow hotter, now,  than the rest of him. It should be painful, but after the initial shock he realizes that the heat feels _good_. It blends with and amplifies the pleasure that he already considers above average, the sensation without more would already enough enough to leave Throndir feeling buzzed for hours after he comes.

And then the he actually does collapse when a moment later the ground seems to go out from under him. Bracing against Red Jack’s horns is the only thing that keeps him from toppling over. He realizes that these horns were not big enough to _lean on_ before. And, “holy fu-uck,” Throndir realizes that he’s suddenly balls deep in a (litteral, now) giant’s mouth, his cock alight with unnaturally intensified sensation. “fhaa..fuck.. ffffuc-uckk this can’t be real?!,” Throndir half exclaims and half moans as he pushes himself away from and out of Red Jack’s mouth – when he lands it’s on Red Jack’s _collar bone_.

Throndir’s whole body shakes with the thunder roll of Red Jack’s barely-suppressed laughter. Jovial, Red Jack says, “ **I couldn’t** -“ and catches himself with a bark of laughter. At this size his voice is much too loud to speak normally without waking the camp, so he says in a quieter voice that is unfortunately also lower in pitch, “I couldn’t help but notice....” (The reason it’s unfortunate: Throndir can feel his words in the same way a reader may have experienced the bass of a very loud song vibrating everything in a car, including themselves – but Throndir doesn’t have that experience and is both terrified and extremely turned on), “..that you enjoy feeling small. I thought that-,” Red Jack pauses and Throndir realizes with horror that he’d been making a low whining sound as he -trembles- because the hardness of Red Jack’s collarbone is transmitting these vibrations directly into his groin. Throndir snaps his mouth shut and Red Jack continues, almost unable to speak with how hard he’s smiling – delighted that his read on Throndir is correct, “…I **thought** ,” Red Jack intentionally let’s his words resonate in his chest and Throndir falls forward -and Red Jack has grown again because now Throndir is nearly stradling the base of his neck- unable to both support himself _and_ stop from wailing, “..That **if** I worked up to it **slowly,** you might enjoy a little.. **more** of me”

After several moments of Red Jack mercifully not talking, Throndir manages to respond in a very quiet, shaking, voice: “I hate to break it to you, buddy, but this is.. This was not slow.” He might not have been heard if Throndir hadn’t turned his face into the hollow between Red Jack’s jaw and ear to speak.

Red Jack laughs down in his chest and Throndir - who’s entire front is now pressed to Red Jack’s throat- wails. Red Jack hums in consideration, which does not help things, “is it too much? I can ah..” the ‘ground’ drops out from beneath Throndir and he lands with a shock a few feet down on a slightly smaller Red Jack.

At least now when Red Jack speaks Throndir can bear it, “there, better now?”

Throndir nods weakly against the giant’s jaw and Red Jack lets him recover before nuzzling against Throndir and bowling him over with his tusks. Throndir is caught in a hand that supports his entire torso, and is lifted to be inspected by glowing yellow eyes the size of his head. Throndir’s impulse is to hide his face - he’s a wreck of sweat and tears and hair that’s been transformed into a halo of frizz, probably even drool - but there’s nowhere to hide and it’s too late anyway. If Red Jack notices or cares,he doesn’t let on, and after an uncomfortable amount of time has passed - he winks.

The effect is delayed, taking a moment to sink in, but the tension is successfully broken as Throndir is caught in a fit of laughter. When he looks again Red Jack’s expression is warm, smiling more with his eyes than anything else. Less frightened now that he’s adjusted (as much as someone can be adjusted) to Red Jack’s apparent ability to change size at will, the corner’s of Throndir’s lips twitch up in a shy smile as he says, “Alright, I guess do you want to.. Try again?”

Red Jack makes a pleased sound and angles his head so that it’s _almost_ accessible to Throndir. When Throndir hesitates, unsure of how to actually make this work, Red Jack flashes a grin and scoops him up out of his hand with his tusks. Throndir, unprepared, scrambles for something to support himself with and ends up with each arm wrapped around a tusk, watching in wide eyed horror as his still-mostly-hard dick comes to rest against Red Jack’s teeth.

He has to look away, telling himself that he trusts Red Jack. He’s not about to be eaten alive. He _trusts_ Red Jack, he really does. But his brain only has a tenuous understanding that this _is_ Red Jack, currently. But then Red Jack closes his lips and the entirety of Throndir’s bottom is trapped in warm soft wet. He feels the teeth he’s been sitting on part and doesn’t have the presence of mind to keep quiet as the unnatural heat of Red Jack’s tongue is on him. Pressed flat it covers his entire groin and inner thighs, and sets his skin alight with the intensity of pleasure typically confined to his cock. Too much of this would do him in, but Red Jack is forever pushing his limits. And then he’s pushing his huge burning tongue between Throndir’s cheeks and the hot wet slide of it against his hole is too much - the tongue pushes his cock up to slide between Red Jack’s upper lip and teeth and his orgasm hits hard - radiating throughout his entire torso, pulsing with heat (or maybe Red Jack is still licking him? Who the fuck knows).

He must have passed out, because when Throndir returns to this plane of existence he’s fully naked (Red Jack having finally removed his shirt from where it’d been bunched up around his armpits and used it dry Throndir as best he could) and splayed across Red Jack, who’s already got two fingers working him open. Two _reasonably sized_ fingers, much thicker than Throndir’s own, but it’s less than his favorite toy and Throndir is comfortable and lazy and loose as he comes down.

Red Jack’s other hand cups his cheek and he’s under inspection again. Throndir thinks he sees concern and maybe a little bit of guilt in the wrinkle between Red Jack’s brows, but doesn’t have the energy to reconcile that with the expression of mischief and joy that he’d last seen in huge detail. He does have the energy to rub his face on Red Jack’s chest and push back on the fingers that had stilled inside him with a happy hum. Maybe it’s a lingering effect, but every touch still feels deeply satisfying, and he DID still want to take the (not literally anymore, thank god) giant before their night together was up - if only to be able to say he could. If only because this may be his last chance. And he says as much, mumbling it into Red Jack’s shoulder and allowing himself to appreciate the rhythmic shift of muscles flexing and relaxing beneath him as he’s fingered open with steady shallow thrusts.

He’s ...maybe fallen asleep to it when he’s jostled awake by Red Jack reaching for another handful of oil that uses to slick himself, except the fingers that had been in Throndir are around Red Jack’s cock and he’s stroking himself like somebody just trying to be done with it. Throndir gumbles unhappily and Red Jack freezes, even his breathing slows noticeably from where Throndir had been plastered against his side with sweat and exhaustion. Throndir drags himself up from his prone position and grabs at one of Red Jack’s tusks, tugging gently, “hey” he yawns, “you stopped.”

Red jack allows himself to be directed by Throndir’s grasp and says softly, like he’s still trying not to wake Throndir, “You were tired. You need to sleep.”

Throndir scowls at that and sits up, yawning again despite himself, “I-aaahhum -I told you i don’t _need_  sleep.” He lets go of Red Jack’s tusk so he can slap him lightly on the cheek, admonishing, “ _You_ are the one who needs to sleep, idiot.”

Red Jack doesn’t respond, he just stares at Throndir, impassive.

With a dramatic groan, Throndir grins and leans down to kiss Red Jack. He wonders that they’ve done so little of that when it had been the thing he’d daydreamed about the most. Throndir’s cheeks heat and he has the silly thought that he wishes he _did_ need to sleep, if just for the excuse to be as comfortable as he does now, but every night. He kisses Red Jack until the giant has to turn his head for breath and then sits back up to admire the view of Red Jack in the form he knows best; about three heads taller than Throndir, _strong_ , but also soft at the belly and hips.

Red Jack still seems to be out of breath, so instead of kissing him again Throndir decides to be merciful. He leans back and stretches, arms above his head - pretends to lose his balance and flops onto his back with a laugh, ‘accidentally’ ending up with his head within convenient distance of Red Jack’s erection. It’s huge and velvety except for the smooth head. Throndir’s first touch is light, a little unsure now that he’s this close. Fully erect, it’s nearly as long as his forearm and twice as thick - and Throndir does not have small arms. When his fingers ghost over it Red Jack inhales sharply and his cock twitches, a bead of precum forming and then spilling down to collect in the wrinkles of his retracted foreskin.

Red Jack groans and his dick continues to weep as he reaches down to put his hand on Throndir’s shoulder, “look.. You really don’t have to. Truly. I can take care of myself and then we can rest. We’ve only got a few hours until dawn but..” He stops and gathers himself, and Throndir pauses his panning to listen. Red Jack squeezes, “Throndir, we.. are about to face the most dangerous beast in Hieron, and that’s ..worth coming to terms with. I deeply regret that this is our first night together, but it does not have to be our last. Our time together has… invigorated me..and.. I _think_ that we may yet have time to enjoy each other.”

Red Jack gives Throndir a heartbreakingly warm smile, and Throndir returns it, “I’m really happy to hear you say that, Jack.” - but he can’t suppress the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, “If you think that’s going to stop me from sucking your dick right now you’re wrong tho”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

\------------

The blue of morning finds Fero and Kodiak sitting by the fire. Kodiak whines and Fero pats him apologetically, “I’m sorry buddy,” scratches behind his ear, “How was I supposed to know they’d actually go get a room?”

 

His friends mostly react immediately:

“Oh no haha.. No ..Fero..”

“THIS WAS YOUR FAULT?!”

“oh my fucking god”  

Except Hella, who had spent the later half of the night snoring softly on the ground, leaning with her head on Adaire’s knee - and Ephrim, whose voice is muffled from pressing his hands to his face, “a giant kicked my tent” red-eyed, he glares at Fero, who’s struggling to keep a straight face “..I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter @fero_feritas for SFW fanart or @agent_heard for spicy stuff
> 
>  **Also:** please don't ask me about the physics of Red Jack's tent, i don't have an answer.  
>  **And:** you can blame this on Austin's description of RJ being the size of a truck standing on end.


End file.
